Richard Thorne

Richard Thorne

 New York City, New York, USA
SoloAmericanaFolk

A mix of quirky acoustic pop, urban folk rock and non traditional county folk, paired with clever, often wry, lyrics.

Biography

"Buddy Holly might have sounded something like this if he had migrated to the Village scene in the latter 1960s, as folk music was transforming into folk-rock - in other words into an intelligent, inner-directed, generally acoustic pop". This is how one insightful critic described Richard Thorne and his music when reviewing his CD, "Amalgam" in 2004. Inevitably , the word "quirky" pops up whenever anyone attempts to describe his music, whether it is in the chord progressions, the constantly changing time signatures within a song, in the melodies and lyrics or in his voice. He has always taken a somewhat atypical approach to song writing while still being mindful and influenced by the " masters " of the art of song writing.
Richard was born and raised in Central Upstate NY , and In his younger years, had the good fortune to grow up in a musical household where he was exposed to just about every style of music possible, from classical to jazz, to folk, country, pop, rock and musical theater. Thus, he has a great appreciation for all styles and genres of music and his influences are equally as broad and inclusive . This is reflected in his song writing. So that at times, hints of anything from 60's pop to bluegrass and traditional country, to even Tin Pan Alley and musical theater, can be heard in his compositions.
He has been playing music since the age of 6 when he began with the obligatory piano lessons, Then, at age 10, he eagerly started playing the drums, and later at 18, he picked up his first guitar in order to take a tentative stab at song writing.
He moved at a young age to New York City, where he has been a long time resident, to pursue a career in both theater and dance, which included studying acting at the Neighborhood Playhouse, a brief scholarship at the New York School of Ballet, numerous performances in both fields and even a stab at choreography. But in the late 70's, he returned to music playing the drums for several "New Wave" bands. In 1980, he stepped out front as a guitar strumming singer songwriter, accompanied by a saxophonist and a bongo player to make his debut at a Greenwich Village folk club, playing very nontraditional folk songs ,baffling the owner of the club. He soon added an electric violin and bass to the mix, named the group Richard Thorne and The Side Effects and preceded to write and play his quirky acoustic folk pop songs at various venues in the city. He continued to tinker with his sound, constantly changing the personnel and instrumentation, including forming a somewhat standard rock band with whom he released in 1981, a 45 RPM, single Junkie For Your Love. One of his more successful and entertaining projects, was his somewhat theatrical "Richard Thornes Summer Party"  show in which he fronted an eight member female band singing songs both celebrating and bemoaning the summer experience in an urban environment. Then in 1993, except for one impromptu performance at a hotel bar in Jalapa, Mexico, he put away his guitar and took a very long sabbatical from both performing and writing. But as the new century approached, he once again picked up his guitar to write and record his first CD, Undercover Overachiever, in 2000. After that EP, which one critic described as " experimental folk " he started to lean toward a more americana, country folk sound incorporating at times the upright bass, banjo, mandolin, fiddle and the pedal steel into his sound . But there was always still that "quirky" element. In addition to Amalgam,  and the EP, One Plus Six, which  he released in 2007 he  released his latest  13 songs CD, "Coming From The End" in 2012.   He is a long time member of ASCAP , and multi recipient of their ASCAP PLUS Awards and a member of the Folk Alliance . 

Lyrics

North Of The Border

Written By: Richard Thorne

The journey is long and hard.
Four thousand miles for an elusive card.
He knows that some have made several tries.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
He hears his Mother weep,
Her tears won’t let him sleep.
It pains his heart to leave,
But his mind is made up.
He hears his brother's radio,
Play three sad songs in a row.

CHORUS
When the daylight is fading,
Coyotes are waiting,
To take your last bone.
And soon you’ll take orders,
Far north of that border,
Where you’ll feel a heavy heart,
Call you home.

The farmer extends out a hand,
The border fence says,” not on this land”.
He is not sure just who to believe.
When you make nothing,
There’s not much to leave.
From the North comes all good news.
Promises that you can’t lose.
He reads between the lines,
For the untold story.
The eagle, with the serpent, flies,
Across unmarked graves of those who die.

CHORUS

He takes a walk through the city one last time,
And stops to watch, with a crowd,
A young mime,
Who weaves his magic,
With his brown nimble hands.
And paints a tale that they all understand.
A barefoot child begs to eat,
Vendor stalls line the street.
He spends his last pesos,
Just to hold a memory.
The man in the moon wears a sombrero,
That casts its pale light on the Zocalo.

CHORUS
When the daylight is fading,
Coyotes are waiting,
To take your last bone.
And soon you’ll take orders,
Far north of that border,
Where you’ll feel a heavy heart,
Call you home.

How Much I Know

Written By: Richard Thorne

If I earned a dollar,
For every time I was a fool.
I could build me a big old mansion,
With an indoor swimming pool.
And mistakes I keep repeating,
Are the ones that I forgot.
I guess that shows,
How much I know.
Not a lot.

I keep trying to start over,
But it’s just a brand new cage.
Like a calendar of Decembers,
All trapped on the last page.
And I try to trick myself,
Into being something that I am not.
I guess that shows,
How much I know .
Not a lot.

I thought happy endings,
Happened just like in a book.
But maybe I misread the words.
I better take a second look.

I thought that you were the fragile one.
Like crystal on a shelf.
When I dropped you,
You would fall apart.
And not regain yourself.
But I’m the one crumbled
And was tied up like a knot.
I guess that shows,
How much I know.
Not a lot.

I thought happy endings ,
Happened just like in a book.
But maybe I misread those words.
I ‘m gonna take a second look.

There’s no fool like an old fool,
Trying to play the same old game
Thinking twenty, thirty, forty,
And maybe fifty are all the same.
But there’s a rude awakening,
When you go to rewind that clock.
I guess that shows,
How much I know.
Not a lot.

Making Up For Lost Time

Written By: Richard Thorne

Well, the bottles are half empty.
The rain has come and gone.
A melancholy dreamer
Sleeps off one more sad song.
The sun sneaks through the window sill.
Tosses rays across the floor.
Wakes me up and shoves me out the door.

CHORUS

I’m making up for lost time.
I’ve got some I O U’s
And when I go to cash them in,
I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
I’m gonna make up for that lost time.
The hours that slip away.
I’m gonna sneak up on a sunrise.
And treat myself to a brand new day.

They say misery loves company.
It’s always looking for a home.
Well, I’ve played host for long enough .
I’m gonna pack my bags and roam.
I ain't gonna stop to worry,
About the things that I didn’t do
Cause I ‘m going to get to ‘em all,
Before I ‘m through

CHORUS

Bridge
I have not forgotten
The ones that I have hurt so,
I'm gonna send a big bouquet
Of love to let you know .

CHORUS
That I ‘m making up for lost time .
I’ve got some IOU’s
And when I go to cash them in,
I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
I’m gonna make up for that lost time
The years that slipped away.
I’m gonna sneak up on a sunrise.
And treat myself to a brand new day

Every Day's A New Day

Written By: Richard Thorne

I can follow my job south or west,
But not to oversea.
The only time I crossed that ocean,
Was to serve my country.
I came home with some medals,
And some memories that I keep inside.
But they can’t rearrange the past ,
Or bring back the friends who died.

C Everyday’s a new day,
H Until it turns into the night.
O Then I can go off drinking,
R And I try not to pick a fight.
U But when I stumble home,
S The dawn chides me and says,
That it ain’t right.
That I squander every new day,
By drinking and drifting through the night.

They closed the plant that I worked for,
When I was off at war.
I returned to unemployment
And debt collectors at my door.
I tried working down at Walmart’s.
But it didn’t pay the bills.
And every day I prayed,
That no one in the family fell ill.

CHORUS

Well, the wife packed up and left me,
With the two kids by her side.
Said she could hang around,
And watch as the spirit died.
I couldn’t get too angry.
‘Cause I knew that she was right.
Who wants to back a boxer,
Who’s lost the will to fight.

CHORUS

Well, I hear all this talk,
About the new economy.
But I don’t see where I fit in,
In this recovery.
Well. bad times can’t last forever.
At least that’s what they say.
But why is it the uninvited guest,
That always stay.

Sometimes I feel lonely,
Sometimes I feel afraid.
Sometimes I am embarrassed,
By mistakes that I have made.
And sometimes I have to wonder,
Where common sense has gone.
When stealing in a business suit,
Is not considered wrong.

Everyday’s a new day,
Until it turns into the night.
Then I can go off drinking,
But I try not to pick a fight.
When I stumble home,
The dawn chides me and says,
You know that it ain’t right.
That I squander every new day,
By drinking and drifting through the night.

Everyday’s a new day,
But I think that I’ll just wait,
For the night.

Every Road I Travel

Written By: Richard Thorne

Down another highway,
With the sunset in my eyes.
My thoughts are tugging at me from behind .
Visions of a future,
Will glow in a new sunrise.
But I’m wary of the changes that I might find .
For the rules are not constant .
They’re like a line drawn in the sand.
That will wash away
Like teardrops from the sea.
And I’ll just drift along like a one man band.
Playing in a minor key.

CHORUS
As I wander on my own.
I think of those from the past
That I’ve known.
All ashes burned in memory.
That follow where I roam.
Every road I travel leads me home.

Hugging the horizon,
While painting up the sky.
Abandoning its labors with a smile.
Mesmerized by colors,
That fade before my eyes.
And hypnotized to linger for a while.
But I wish that I could follow,
Where it sinks to disappear.
Leaving issues unresolved behind.
But it sadly bids farewell,
As the evening nears.
Not meaning to be unkind.

CHORUS
As I wander on my own.
I think of those from the past
That I’ve known.
All ashes burned in memory.
That follow where I roam.
Every road I travel leads me home.

Bridge
As I stand up on a bridge.
I just watch the water flow.
As I walk along a ridge.
I’m reluctant , but still curious.
To see what lies below.

Forfeiting good fortune,’
As it slithers from my hand.
Distracted, I just let the chance sneak by.
Nostalgic for a simpler time,
When I could understand.
When a sense of wonder,
Sparkled in my eye.

And I hope to still be humbled,
By a universe ablaze.
With galaxies a million light years high.
And I’ll reel from the thunder,
And stand amazed.
Just how quickly it all goes by.

CHORUS
As I wander on my own.
I think of those from the past
That I’ve known.
All ashes burned in memory.
That follow where I roam.
Every road I travel, leads me home.
Every road I travel, leads me home.

The Trains Don't Run To Nashville Anymorre

Written By: Richard Thorne

You can get to Nashville
By car , or bus or plane .
But you can’t cross the Cumberland, arriving there by train .
The station’s now a hotel,
Wiith some fancy stores.
Cause the trains don’t run
to Nashville anymore.

CHORUS
The trains don’t run to Nashville anymore
You can’t hear their whistle blowing, or their engine’s roar .
There are guitar pickers, fiddlers and hungry troubadours.
But the trains don’t run to Nashville anymore

Lots of folks migrate from that Northern snow and cold.
Trying to reinvent themselves before they get too old,
But soon they find they’re only doing what they did before.
And the trains don’t run
to Nashville anymore.

CHORUS

Now there are changes for the good
That we’re all glad we’ve seen.
Antiquated attitudes , beliefs that seemed extreme
No more colored drinking fountains , or separate back doors.
But the trains don’t run through Nashville anymore

CHORUS

Now what’s a country song without a long and winding train
It’s like lightening and thunder without the falling rain
But I guess they don’t write country songs like they did before
And the trains don’t run to Nashville anymore

CHORUS

The masses rode those trains across that great country of ours.
Now it’s individuals , on highways in their cars.
Our dependence on foreign oil makes common sense implore
Why can’t the trains run to Nashville once more ?

The trains don’t run to Nashville anymore.
You can’t hear that whistle blow or that engine roar.
There are guitar pickers , fiddlers , and hungry troubadours.
But the trains don’t run to Nashville anymore.
No , the trains don’t run to Nashville , anymore.

It's All Right

Written By: Richard Thorne

So where do we go from here.
Let’s skip the remorse and the tears
‘Cause I don’t think hindsight,
Ever recovered lost years.
Let’s try to have some fun.
No need to review the reruns.
Whatever has happened, it’s happened,
And it can’t be undone.
We’ll trade in our passion
For a sense of humor.
And was your love for me,
Just a rumor ?
But I won’t hold that against you.
We’ll make it a joke between you and me.
Our little joke is on you me.

CHORUS

But it’s all right, baby.
It could have been worse,
When we got to the end.
But it’s all right , baby.
We lost out as lovers.
I hope we don’t lose out as friends.

Well I guess I don’t know how you feel.
Thinking that it was for real.
But you were still pondering.
I thought it was a done deal.
But no need to sing the blues,
It’s already yesterday’s news.
A mistaken identity,
Stranded inside the wrong shoes.
I never could figure out what you needed.
Maybe another man could have succeeded.
Changing in mid stream,
Everytime you changed your mind.
Following behind.
I had to learn that I’m not that kind.

But it’s all right , baby
It could have been worse ,
When we got to the end.
It’s all right, baby.
We lost out as lovers .
I hope we don’t lose out as friends.

I hope you know ,
won’t go running to your friends.
Lashing out at you.
And I sure hope you’ve the discretion .
Stick to that policy too.
So , what are we going to do
You know I still have a thing for you.

But it’s all right , baby.
It could have been worse ,
When we got to the end.
It’s all right baby,
We lost out as lovers .
I hope we don’t lose out as friends.
Lose out as friends.
Cause I need a friend .
And it’s all right.

Freight Trains and Strange Dreams

Written By: Richard Thorne

Freight trains and strange dreams ,
Pass through in the dead of night.
Carry my load down a lonesome road,
And drop me off at daylight .
Like buttermilk and threads of silk .
A moonlight skims a pond.
When I cross that bridge,
I’ll figure out which side I should be on.

Well old bad luck just follows me,
Like a shadow in disguise,
I raise my voice and I shake my fist,
But it smacks me between the eyes.
So I shrug my shoulders and say come on.
I guess I could use a friend.
Just do me a favor ,
Don’t hang around until the bitter end.

CHORUS ‘

Now I don’t look into a mirror.
When I’ve been out all night .
It’s just too painful,
To be a witness to such a sorry sight.
And then I think ,
Did some poor fool carry me home .
No , these voices that I hear cursing me ,
Are just my own.

CHORUS

Now I’ll have a drink for my mother.
I’ll have one for my friend.
I’ll have one for that hapless soul,
Sitting down at the other end.
But when I hear the bartender,
Start to read his poems.
I know it’s time to finish up,
And find my way home.

Freight trains and strange dreams ,
Pass through in the dead of night.
Carry my load down a lonesome road,
And drop me off at daylight .
Like buttermilk and threads of silk .
A moonlight skims a pond.
When I cross that bridge,
I’ll figure out which side I should be on.

Bailing Out The Big Boys

Written By: Richard Thorne

Well they’ve gone and messed it up again .
Seems to happen every now and then
They’re running up a tab , while someone else is doing the lending
When you’re spending someone else’s money .
The world ‘s your oyster , the days are always sunny .
But we all know what happens when we get to the ending .

CHORUS
We’re bailing out the big boys .
So they can keep their toys
We all need to be a little understanding
When you are falling from the top
You need a cushion to lighten the shock
And a golden parachute to soften the landing

Six thousand dollars for a shower curtain
Somewhere there’s six thousand hurting
Trying to make it through the day on a minimum wage
But, when you’re pulling in ten thousand an hour
Holed up in your luxury tower
It’s kind of hard to be on the same page .

CHORUS
We’re bailing out the big boys etc .

Easy come , easy go
Watch how the money flows
The well intentioned never lie .
They just let the rumors fly

They say that greed is good for motivation
Makes you want to spend and have a celebration
Keep the wheels a turning ‘til you hit pay day .
But when you see them come around to collect
From the hapless victims of the latest train wreck
Don’t be too surprised when you hear them say .

We’re bailing out the big boys,
So they can keep their toys.
We all need to be a little understanding
Cause when you are falling from the top
You need a cushion to lighten the shock
And a golden parachute to soften the landing
We could all use a parachute for a softer landing

Make Each Morning Feel Like A Holiday

Written By: Richard Thorne

This song was never sung.
Although the notes were always there.
But the melody was locked up inside my head somewhere.
Now I can sing this song.
Like prisoners that have been freed.
My thoughts can follow where ever my heart will lead.

CHORUS
You are the North Star that I search for in the evening.
To guide me through the night, when I have lost my way.
You are the sunrise that colors the horizon.
And makes each morning feel like a holiday.

2nd Verse
I’d lay awake at night.
The solitude stung like a bee.
‘Cause I knew the morning had nothing to offer me.
But doubts are questions now.
The clouds do not always bring rain.
‘Cause I finally found an exit off of the one way lane.

You are the North Star that I search for in the evening.
To guide me through the night when I have gone astray.
You are the sunrise that colors the horizon.
And makes each morning feel like a holiday.

BRIDGE
Let the ocean cleanse me of my sorrow.
Let me lose myself in the vastness of the sea.
If you were to say goodbye tomorrow.
That would not change what you’ve done for me.

3rd Verse
I used to stop and stare.
And watched how others would behave.
And I felt like I’d been living my life in a cave.
But doors are open now.
I did not know were there.
Now I want to taste everything and explore everywhere.

You are the North Star that I search for in the evening,
To guide me through the night when I have lost my way.
You are the sunrise that colors the horizon.
And makes each morning feel like a holiday.
Now every morning feels like a holiday.

The Prince Of Peace Was Born On Christmas Day

Written By: Richard Thorne

Let the birds in the night keep singing
Let the bells in the tower keep ringing.
Hear their chimes, a child was born today
Let the light of his grace keep shining
Let the words of the poets keep rhyming
Let their words of wisdom, lead the way,
For the stars will shine bright .
As a stillness falls upon this sacred night.

CHORUS
The Winter sky’s a glow
As a child in swaddling clothes
Lay in a manger on a bed of hay.
As the snow lay on the ground
The humble will gather ‘round
For the Prince of Peace was born on Christmas Day.

Let the guns and the tanks be silent
Let the strength of peace be defiant
Let its reign of reason rule the day
Let the greedy hands start giving
Let the deadened souls start living,
Let us help the lost to find their way
For the mighty will fall.
Just as sure as the meek will one day, stand tall.

CHORUS

Let the cold hearts warm with feeling
Let the bitter rifts start healing
Let the closed minds open up their doors.
Let the suffering child stop crying
Let the innocent stop dying
Let us ban forever needless wars.
For the dream can come true
If you let His Light shine on you.

The winter sky’s a glow
As a child in swaddling clothes
Lay in a manger on a bed of hay.
And the snow lay on the ground
The humble will gather ‘round
For the Prince of Peace was born this Christmas Day

Let the birds in the night keep singing
Let the bells in the tower keep ringing.
The Prince of Peace peace was born on Christmas Day.

Every Day's A New Day

Written By: Richard Thorne

I can follow my job south or west,
But not to oversea.
The only time I crossed that ocean,
Was to serve my country.
I came home with some medals,
And some memories that I keep inside.
But they can’t rearrange the past ,
Or bring back the friends who died.

C Everyday’s a new day,
H Until it turns into the night.
O Then I can go off drinking,
R And I try not to pick a fight.
U But when I stumble home,
S The dawn chides me
And says that it ain’t right.
That I squander every new day,
By drinking and drifting through the night.

They closed the plant that I worked for,
When I was off at war.
I returned to unemployment
And debt collectors at my door.
I tried working down at Walmart’s.
But it didn’t pay the bills.
And every day I prayed,
That no one in the family fell ill.

CHORUS

Well, the wife packed up and left ,
With the two kids by her side.
Said she could not hang around,
And watch as the spirit died.
I guess I couldn’t get too angry.
‘Cause I knew that she was right.
Who wants to back a boxer,
Who’s lost the will to fight.

CHORUS

Well, I hear all this talk,
About the new economy.
But I don’t see where I fit in,
In this recovery.
Well. bad times can’t last forever.
At least that’s what they say.
But why is it the uninvited guest,
That always stays.


Sometimes I feel lonely,
Sometimes I feel afraid.
Sometimes I am embarrassed,
By mistakes that I have made.
And sometimes I have to wonder,
Where common sense has gone.
When stealing in a business suit,
Is not considered wrong.

Everyday’s a new day,
Until it turns into the night.
Then I can go off drinking,
But I try not to pick a fight.
When I stumble home,
The dawn chides me and says,
You know that it ain’t right.
That I squander every new day,
By drinking and drifting through the night.

Everyday’s a new day,
But I think that I’ll just wait,
For the night.

Getting Hurt Is Nothing New

Written By: Richard Thorne

You can fake it ,
And you can pretend,
That his love for you will never end .
He has shown you one too many signs
That he’s looking for a better time .

Casualty Insurance ,
Fortified endurance
Won’t keep it from happening to you .
So join the human race ,
Getting hurt is nothing new.

You were good at making others cry.
While your dormant tear ducts
Stayed so dry .
So it must have been a big surprise.
To catch yourself rubbing those teary eyes.

Casualty insurance ,
Fortified endurance,
Won’t keepit from happening to you.
So join the human race.
Getting hurt is nothing new.

Maybe you will understand ,
Why I wasn’s smiling when you left me .
Maybe you will understand ,
Why the things you thought were cute ,
Upset me.
Now don’t forget me.

Casualty insurance
Fortified endurance ,
Won’t keep it from happening to you .
So join the human race .
Cause getting hurt is nothing new.
Getting hurt is nothing new.

The Moon Won't Fall Down

Written By: Richard Thorne

A moonless sky lets the stars shine bright .
So wish upon a star , it could be your lucky night .
And if Mother Nature decides to be your friend .
You might find a treasure at the rainbow’s end.

CHORUS
Like a traveling circus saved by its clown.
All will not be lost if some our found .
So have a little faith , and stand your ground.
And don’t worry, the moon won’t fall down .

2nd Verse
One bad apple won’t upset the cart.
And you won’t be heartless if you have a heart .
And you know that babies don’t grow on trees.
And though the moon is yellow ,
It’s not made of cheese.

CHORUS

3rd Verse
So dot your i’s and cross your t’s ,
And if you ask for something ,
Be sure to say please.
Be kind to your friends and show them that you care.
If you have a little extra , make sure that you share.

CHORUS

4th Verse
When you hear the raindrops at your window at night ,
Tucked under the covers , pulled up tight .
Let the sound of the falling rain lull you to sleep.
And have pleasant dreams.
Ah , but not too deep .

CHORUS
Like a traveling circus saved by its clown.
All will not be lost if some our found .
So have a little faith , and stand your ground.
And don’t worry, the moon won’t fall down .
And don’t worry , the moon won’t fall down .

Pancho Villa Doesn't Live There Anymore

Written By: Richard Thorne

There’s a small hotel in Mexico City
Where the locals take refuge for the night .
Where the whores and the hustlers carouse in the hallways ,
Asking a stranger for a light .
He mumbles “ lo siento, I never did smoke”
As he fumbles with the key to his room .
And the old hotel bellhop is asleep in the corner .
Propped up by his corn stalk broom.
And their spirits are as dim as the lights in the hall.
And as worn as the carpet on the floor
And their dreams are as distant as a failed revolution,
And Pancho Villa doesn’t live there anymore .

In the cantina below, the tequila is flowing.
Spent limes litter the floor.
And the bottles of beer are lined up on the bar top,
Like toy soldiers marching off to war.
The air is rancid and filled with smoke
As a dog begs at his feet .
He looks down in pity at that skin bones.
A fellow scavenger off of the streets.
Then the lights go out ,and panic ensues ,
As they wonder if the power will be restored .
Then a match is lit and there is an apparition ,
Of Pancho Villa , who doesn’t live there anymore .

He stumbles through the streets of Mexico City ,
Wreaking of beer and gin
Cursing out loud the ghostly assassins,
Who committed the original sin.
And the crowds stream by in a blur of compassion,
As he struggles to avoid their eyes .
And his heart is heavy as he thinks of the suffering,
And of the wretched , and he cries .
As he wiped his tears with the stained soaked sleeve ,
Of the only shirt he wore .
He sees in the faces of the children around him .
Pancho Villa who doesn’t live there anymore .

Like an old movie reel, his life passed before him .
With edited cuts on the floor .
As he listlessly lay on his bed in an stupor,
Like a body washed up on shore
And the characters danced around in his head.
Lively scenes from long ago tales.
When his words unfurled like waves on pages,
And talented winds filled his sails.
Then he wondered if the hustler, who just had robbed him,
Had bothered to close the door.
And his dreams were as distant as a failed revolution
And Pancho Villa doesn’t live there anymore .

Love Me Tonight

Written By: Richard Thorne

Heartaches and laughter and magical moments.
Colors that fade with time.
Memories are fragile and they’re hard to hold on to.
Like clouds drifting ‘round in your mind.
And it’s hard to think back when you stand there before me,
With both love and anger in your eyes.
Something inside me says I still need you,
But I think I’m just a little bit too high.

But if we could stand it for just a few hours,
Knowing that we’ll never get it right.
We can’t go back and we’ll move on tomorrow.
But would you come home and love me tonight?
Would you come home and love me tonight?

This could be a joke, but nobody’s laughing.
We’re a couple of teary eyed clowns.
We each thought we had somewhere else to be going to,
But found ourselves hanging around.
Waiting for someone to make that first motion,
To forgive and forget the past.
But maybe there’s something that we’ve both forgotten.
That something that just couldn’t last.

But if we could stand it for just a few hours,
Knowing that we’ll never get it right.
We can’t go back and we’ll move on tomorrow.
But would you come home and love me tonight?
Would you come home and love me tonight?

Instrumental Break

Now I don't pretend to have all the answers,
Standing on pretty shaky ground.
But there must be a reason that I'm still out searching,
For the one thing that I hoped I had found.
The more time goes by, the fonder the memories,
Replacing the lows with the highs.
But isn’t it strange how the heart well remembers,
The things that the mind denies.

But if we could stand it for just a few hours,
Knowing that we’ll never get it right.
We can’t go back and we’ll move on tomorrow.
But would you come home and love me tonight?
Would you come home and love me tonight?
Would you come home and love me tonight?

My Better Angels

Written By: Richard Thorne

My Mama said she always worried about my drinking ways .
She warned me not to follow down Daddy’s road.
But my weakness and desires clouded up my thinking days
Though I knew the path I’d travel on, would bear a heavy load.

Living with the bottle is often painful.
But I never found the way to quench the thirst
I always tried to find ny better angels,
But the devil, he always found me first.

I abandoned and disappointed all those who mattered most.
Choosing to indulge in my reckless ways.
So now it's Mr Solitude, who welcomes me as host.
And drinks with me through endless nights, squandering my days.

Living with the bottle is often painful
But I never found a way to quench the thirst
I always tried to find my better angels
But the devil, he always found me first.

The bottle is always half full, but I see the glass half empty.
Shouldering the old man’s wretched curse.
But maybe one day, with the good Lord’s help,
I might find that Land of Plenty.
Where I’ll never have to worry if things will get much worse

Living with the bottle is often painful
But I never found a way to quench the thirst
I always tried to find ny better angels
But the devil, he always found me first

You miserable old bottle
You know, I'm going to beat you yet
And on that day I'll cease to be your slave .
Then I will raise my glass one last time, to a blazing red sunset.
And let an empty, lonesome, midnight train carry me to my grave .

Living with the bottle is often painful.
But I never found a way to quench the thirst.
I always tried to find ny better angels,
But that old devil, he always found me first.
I guess I let that devil find me first.